


Fall For It

by StarDestroyer81



Category: Lovers of Aether, Rivals of Aether (Video Game)
Genre: Lovers of Aether - Freeform, Rivals of Aether - Freeform, Story Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarDestroyer81/pseuds/StarDestroyer81
Summary: Zetterburn, having just arrived home from football practice, trips and lands on his arm in an awkward display. At first embarrassed to let his bravado slip, the lion thinks little of the incident, assuming no one saw him take the fall... or so he's led to believe.
Kudos: 1





	Fall For It

**Author's Note:**

> It was only a matter of time before I wrote a work starring the characters from Rivals/Lovers of Aether! 
> 
> The other night, I had been searching for fun story prompts to center drabbles around, and eventually came across a good slew of prompts good enough to base entire works around. One of them in particular I felt would make a funny and cute short story, and the prompt was this:
> 
> "Character X has a ridiculous injury that they don‘t want to explain to Character Y."
> 
> I thought it would be fun to use this prompt as an excuse to practice writing Zetterburn and Forsburn's characters for an upcoming project that I will be posting here in due time. I realize after writing this that Forsburn's a little more light-hearted, in contrast to his vicious appearance, though I suppose he's able to convey his feelings a lot more freely to his own brother. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Zetterburn Heatford knew he was a big deal. Everyone at Aether High knew he was, too. And how could they not? From being the head of the football team to his father once holding the proud title of being the school's principal before Loxodont took his place, the Heatford name was a mainstay in the halls of Aether High, and Zetterburn was no exception. 

He took pride in a lot of things— his looks, the way he carried himself, and most of all, his performance as the esteemed quarterback of the Aether High Heartbreakers. Zetterburn loved himself a good game of football, and as such, often found himself soaking up every last second of football practice of the four times a week the team met. Not even a standard day of practice went by without Zetterburn taking his aurora of greatness to the next level, often making plays the remainder of the team and even his coach had never seen before. He was, without question, a star.

Zetterburn contently drummed his paws on the steering wheel of his car, bobbing his head to his musical selection as he smoothly turned into his street, slowing down the speed of the vehicle as he traveled down a road all too familiar to him. He had just gotten off of a grueling nine hour practice, but _man_ , was it a good one. Zetterburn had put his all into every moment of the day, and found today's practice to be the best one he had shown up to in days— weeks, even. With a playstyle like his, he knew that there wasn't a high school football team out there that he _wasn't_ able to destroy with one paw tied behind his back.

"The Jingleboys are toast this weekend," mused Zetterburn, snidely chuckling to himself as he approached the driveway of his home, lit dimly in the night by the upstairs lights inside, "We'll have scored a season's worth of touchdowns before the halftime show!"

But game time was over for the night, and Zetterburn knew this well. As much as he enjoyed the exhilaration of practice, he was aching to invite himself inside and get a nice, warm shower before moseying off to bed— lord knows someone as active as he was in a day could use a little shut-eye.

Zetterburn pulled his car up to the door of the garage, turning off his stereo before shutting the car off entirely. He then plucked his keys out from the lock cylinder, giving the door handle to his car a light tug inward before using his paw to push the door open gently. Home at last! The lion stepped out of the car with a mighty stretch, yawning as he began to meander toward the garage door to put in the pass key for it to open...

"Oh!" snapped Zetterburn suddenly, whirling back toward his car, "I nearly forgot my bag!"

Brushing his hands together, Zetterburn approached the car again, opening the door to the driver's seat before leaning inside to swipe his duffel bag from the passenger seat. With his bag equipped, Zetterburn then locked his car, hoisting the bag over his shoulder before taking a breather.

_I can't wait to see the look on Coach's face when I kick off tomorrow's game with a touchdown,_ Zetterburn thought to himself proudly, again making way for the garage, _I can already hear the buzz of the crowd. They'll be cheering my name, cementing it into Aether High's football hall of fame. I truly am the King of Aether—_

Zetterburn was so deep into his trance that he hadn't been watching where he had been walking, and before he knew it, he tripped over his own foot, sending himself to the asphalt with a hard thud— landing right on his arm.

A tough fall was nothing new to him, especially in a sport like football, though falling onto his arm on hard concrete as opposed to the plush, grassy turf he was so used to colliding against was a rude awakening. Zetterburn groaned in pain, rolling over onto his back as he instinctively grabbed onto his arm, cradling it close to his chest. _That_ hurt.

"Geez..." grunted Zetterburn, suddenly not even having enough energy to get back up, "I guess that's what I get for having such a big ego... christ, that smarts..."

Loafing around pathetically in the drive wasn't going to do him any good. The sooner he could muster up enough strength to stand up once more, the sooner he could hurry inside and get some ice on his throbbing arm— he was just lucky it wasn't the arm he used to throw. Weakly, Zetterburn hoisted himself up, brushing off his letterjacket as he swiped his bag off the concrete, plodding toward the garage as he impatiently punched in the number to open the garage door.

While he could do without such a fall, he was just thankful that Coach Swiftwing had kept him and the rest of the team at practice for longer than usual that night. If not for that, someone could have easily seen him awkwardly fall in broad daylight— not like stumbling through the dark and having no clue where he'd land was any better of an alternative, but he would sooner take a few punches than lose that perfect image he was known for.

Once the garage door had creaked all the way open, Zetterburn quickly paced inside, still tending to his bruised arm to the best of his ability. The pain throbbed all throughout the side he had fallen on, making for a grisly discomfort, but it wasn't the worst he had been through. As much he had wanted to get inside and put some ice on it, he figured a shower was in order first, after his intensive day of practice... maybe some cold water on his arm would help soothe it just as well.

Zetterburn opened the door into the laundry room quietly, issuing himself inside just as silently as he shut the garage door behind him. From what he could tell, most of the downstairs lights were off— a telltale sign that his mother had already sent herself to bed. Good thing, too; if she were still awake and saw her own son in the condition he was in, he'd never hear the end of it!

"I'll take care of this later," mumbled Zetterburn, dumping his duffelbag by the door to the garage before sneaking into the main area of the house, his hurt arm still held close to him, "Maybe after I put some ice on this, I'll have the strength to lug it up to my room."

He carefully tip-toed his way through the kitchen and into the foyer of the house, careful to not make his presence known. He didn't want anyone to see him babying his arm the way he had been, though to be fair, who would? His mother was already in bed by the looks of things, and his brother, Forsburn, was probably in his room doing who-knows-what— he hardly even left his room at all. The more he thought about it, the sillier Zetterburn felt for trying to keep his presence silent.

_If I'm lucky,_ Zetterburn pondered to himself, beginning his ascent up the stairs, _I can hop in the shower, get some ice on my arm and go to bed without Fors seeing me. Maybe this'll all blow over by tomorrow morning. In fact, I think I can feel the pain lifting... scratch that, it still stings moving it... all I have to do is just get into my room, and—_

"'Sup, Zett."

Zetterburn gave a brief but startled gasp, clutching at his very heart as he looked up to the stair railing near the staircase's top. Casually hunched over it— in the dark, no less— was his brother, Forsburn, eyeing his every move. Zetterburn gave a heave of sigh as he scowled at him, letting himself lean on the wall for a moment.

"Forsburn, what the hell, man?" hissed Zetterburn, "You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing?"

Forsburn gave a light shrug, nonchalantly cocking his head to the side. "Just wanted to see my brother home, 's all."

Zetterburn grimaced a little in shame. Forsburn meant well, and there wasn't much reason to raise his voice at his own brother. It wasn't like he caused the fall he was still recovering from. "... sorry about that, bro. I'm just a little stressed."

"Long day at practice?"

"Tell me about it," Zetterburn sighed again, inviting himself upstairs to meet his brother eye-to-eye, "I thought Coach Swiftwing was going to keep us all night, plus I'm kind of giving tomorrow's game second thoughts."

Forsburn looked surprised. "You? _Nervous?_ "

Zetterburn chuckled. It _did_ sound nonsensical, in hindsight. "Yeah, I know. It's unlike me, isn't it?"

"C'mon, Zett," continued Forsburn, offering a curt smile— a stark contrast to his intimidating exterior, "You know you'll do great. If you want, I'll even tag. Got nothin' better to do myself tomorrow night, anyway."

Zetterburn raised a brow. It wasn't often Forsburn left his room, especially for his own brother's sake, so the offer surprised him. "Wow, Fors, I'd... I'd love to have you there to cheer us on! Maybe you could even bring _Maypul_ along, I'm sure it'd make for a nice night out for you two."

Forsburn looked away, feeling his maw turn up into a shy smile. Zetterburn had got him in the one place he was vulnerable. "Yeah, yeah, maybe."

"Well," said Zetterburn, beginning to take off down the hall toward his room, "I'm gonna grab a shower and hit the sack. I'll see ya tomorrow, Fors."

Zetterburn could feel his pace pick up the closer he got to his room. He was greatly surprised he didn't blow the whole thing by making his light injury obvious— maybe he really _should_ have taken theatrics. But just before he could cup his paw around the doorknob to his bedroom, he heard Forsburn speak again.

"Hey, Zett..." Forsburn began.

Zetterburn froze in place, mid-action as he allowed his brother a moment to pursue wherever he intended to take the conversation. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

The lion felt himself tense up. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was coming, and could only hope that he was wrong. "Uh, sure, what's up?"

Forsburn was quiet for a moment before asking. "What happened to your arm?"

_Oh, great._ Zetterburn thought to himself. Was the fact that something was amiss with the way he had been carrying himself _that_ obvious? He could have sworn he had saved it, yet Forsburn was able to notice. Taking a deep breath, Zetterburn tried to regain his confidence before turning back to face Forsburn. _I just have to play it cool..._

"What do you mean?" he asked, feigning obliviousness.

_Why are you so BAD at this!?_

"Well," Forsburn continued, walking toward his brother, "I noticed you were holding your arm, and you just look... uncomfortable, I guess. Did something happen today?"

"Oh, that?" Zetterburn returned in an instant, giving a boisterous smile, "It's nothin'. Just had a rough fall at practice today. No biggie."

Forsburn stared at Zetterburn, incredulous, yet suspicious. " _Did_ you?"

"Yeah, and you should have seen it!" Zetterburn smiled, lightly pushing his brother to the side as he began to playfully rush down the hall, "I was going straight for the endzone, right? I could almost _taste_ the touchdown, and then before I knew it, I was down for the count. Sucks, too, I liked this shirt, 'n now I gotta wash it."

Forsburn looked unamused, and this worried Zetterburn. If his crossed arms were any indication, it meant that he wasn't buying the lie...

"Your shirt's barely even got as much as a single grass stain on it." Forsburn flatly stated.

... which was probably because his lie wasn't good enough to begin with. Zetterburn put both of his paws over his face, deeply embarrassed that he couldn't even keep a simple _fib_ going to save his life.

"Zett," Forsburn spoke again, gently placing his paw on his brother's shoulder, "there's... somethin' I think you should know. A secret from brother to brother, you know?"

Zetterburn looked to Forsburn, his face still flushed after he had put on a big theatric for nothing. At the very least, Forsburn didn't seem upset with him, which he was thankful for, so allowing him to continue wouldn't hurt too much. Maybe he could trust his own brother with the truth— after all, Forsburn wasn't the type to tease... he eventually caved. "... what is it, bro?"

Forsburn then gave a snort, grinning again as he shook Zetterburn by the shoulder. "I saw you trip over your own paws in the driveway." 

The hyena then began to laugh, only flustering Zetterburn further. The lion gave his brother a playful shove, fumbling for words.

"I'd like to see _your_ legs work the way they should after nine hours of football!" Zetterburn fussed, though it was a little tough for him to be mad at Forsburn. It was rare he saw him give as much of a smile. Forsburn stepped back for a moment, allowing himself a breath, before looking up at Zetterburn with another giggle here and there.

"Don't sweat it, Zett," Forsburn assured, clearing his throat before offering a reassuring grin, "I just found it funny how you did everything you could to dance around the fact that you tripped the way you did."

Zetterburn sighed. "Yeah, I know, it's just..."

"Just what?"

"... I didn't want anyone to know."

Forsburn's playful expression softened a bit. He knew full well that Zetterburn was always about putting on a flawless display, so it was no wonder he wanted to keep the whole ordeal to himself. He almost felt a bit bad for laughing, but didn't let it get the best of him. "Would I ever make fun of my own brother?"

Zetterburn thought for a moment. "... no."

"So, why would I judge you for a cheap fall?"

"... y'know what? You're right." Zetterburn nodded, shuffling a bit as he coyly looked away, "It was stupid of me to not admit the truth to you sooner. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Forsburn said, "Don't worry about it. Just do me a favor and take some time to tend to it, would you?"

Zetterburn nodded. "Right, yeah. I'm thinkin' a shower might help, so I'll put some ice on it after I dry off."

"Good," Forsburn finished, giving Zetterburn a pat on the back before turning to head back into his room, but not before making one last jest, "Try not to trip on your way into the shower, alright?"

Zetterburn hacked up a laugh. "Oh, you'd _like_ that, wouldn't you?"

"Just sayin'," shrugged Forsburn, entering his room and shutting the door behind him. He was still amused to no end that his brother failed catastrophically in trying to hide a mere trip, but in the end, Forsburn was just glad Zetterburn wasn't hurt too badly. He figured that the least he could do to show support for him would be to show up to the big game against Newbury Meadow tomorrow night, so he vowed that he would show up on the front lines to see Zetterburn's football prestige in action.

Though, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go by himself. At first, he considered asking Sylvanos to tag along, before remembering he too was a part of Aether High's football team. After a long period of consideration, Forsburn, as shy as he was, figured nothing too bad could come out of asking Maypul to the game with him... blushing, he swiped his phone off of his desk and shot Maypul a text...


End file.
